Firsts
by Cutter
Summary: Kyou and Uochan have a conversation. Discoveries and consequences ensue.


**8/15/2004: This fic has been slightly revised from its previous version, so it should be more in line with the Furuba timeline, and smoother in general. **  
  
Surprisingly (I was more surprised than anyone, I think), I wrote a Fruits Basket fic. I had sort of assumed that I would never write Fruits Basket. But it seems there is, in fact, a first time for everything.  
  
This fic was inspired by a work of fanart you can now view at It's by Gacktkoon (email her at telling her that she is wonderful and amazing), and I stumbled across it and became instantly convinced that there had to be a fanfic in there somewhere, and that I wanted to write it. (Hell, there are more fanfics _still_ in there, so hopefully someone else will come along and write them so I can read them.)  
  
And with that.   
  
DISCLAIMERS: I don't own Fruits Basket. If I owned Fruits Basket, I could afford to order pizza.  
WARNINGS: . . .you know, I sort of allude to some of the traditionally warning-worthy things, but I don't think I actually _do_ any of them in this fic. [mild amazement]   
DEDICATIONS: If Koon likes it, it's hers.   
NOTES: As far as I or anyone I know has been able to tell, this was the first Uo/Kyou fanfic published on the Internet, so that's one of the reasons for the title. Please consider this fic to occur sometime before Uo meets Kureno (that happens in the manga).  
  
**Firsts**  
  
"She doesn't swing that way, you know," said Kyou.  
  
That was the way the whole thing started.  
  
"Oh?" replied Uotani. She'd been standing at the windowsill of their classroom, alone during a break period, and he had come up behind her. He wasn't sure why--he'd seen her through the open door and had some vague idea of playing a joke on her, or surprising her, or something, but then his cursed curiosity had gotten in the way and he'd craned his neck around her to see what she was looking at.  
  
Tohru and Yuki, sitting outside on a bench and talking.  
  
For some reason, he didn't really feel like picking on her anymore. Even though on the average day beating the Yankee at something was on his list of things to do second only to beating that damned mouse at something. He'd seen her face and he'd seen the couple on the bench and all the fighting spirit just drained out of him.  
  
Maybe he really was an idiot. Going soft like this.  
  
"And what are you saying?" Uotani still had her eyes trained out the window, away from him.  
  
Kyou, who had no idea that what he considered "going soft" and "saying what he thought" was still pretty squarely in the realm of what most people would consider "picking a fight," started to get annoyed. What did she think he was saying?! "I'm saying she's never going to be yours, is what I'm saying!"  
  
"So you're telling me you understand my feelings?"  
  
Perhaps because she was used to his way of conversing by now, Uotani didn't seem angered; her eyes continuing to stare straight ahead, her voice calm.  
  
"Who's saying that? I'm just. . . ." The words trailed off into an inarticulate, frustrated grumble.  
  
"I take it you think I _do_ 'swing that way.'"  
  
Kyou really hadn't wanted to think about it that directly.  
  
But-- "It's pretty obvious. But Tohru isn't. . .she's not like that. It would never even occur to her. So--"  
  
"You think I don't know that?" Uotani's voice was very, very quiet. ". . .do you really think you have to tell me that?"  
  
Kyou was stricken by this. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him until now--at least, not in an immediate sort of a way--that what he was saying might be hurting her. He wasn't cruel; the idea was distressing. _Dammit, when will I learn to think before I start talking?!_  
  
He slowly moved around her to stand beside her at the window. "I--that is--sor--I'm sorry."  
  
His fists were clenched with the effort of saying it. Following the his companion's lead, he stared resolutely out the window.  
  
It was quiet for a moment.  
  
Finally, he saw the Yankee's reflection in the glass open her mouth. "Is it easy for you to say that? That she won't belong to me?" He heard her make a sound that might have been a laugh. "Because you're one of the contestants, aren't you? She just might belong to you some day." There it was again, that laugh that was almost like anger, almost like regret.  
  
It was an unexpected sound from her.  
  
"She belongs to you, then? Is that what you came here for, Carrots?"  
  
Outside, the wind was blowing fiercely. It blew through Tohru's hair, pulling one of her ribbons out and carrying it towards the schoolyard gate. The boy with her was instantly out of his seat, going after it for her, catching it, bringing it back to her.  
  
_Why. . .why is it always. . . ._  
  
Tohru smiled in thanks. The window was closed, but he didn't need to hear her words. He didn't need to hear them to know what they sounded like--her polite thanks that were always so fervent and formal it was like a blow to the stomach, making you feel like a helpless clod, a jerk in comparison. Unworthy to wash her shoes. But still. . .still hopeful.  
  
Like his cousin was looking right now.  
  
"No," he hissed, hardly aware that he was speaking. "They're not mine."  
  
"'They'?"  
  
For the first time in their conversation, the Yankee had turned to face him. Her expression was one of surprise, as if he had finally managed to do something interesting.  
  
Kyou spun around, startled. How--_why_ had he just said. . .no. No. That was it. He was getting out of here. "Forget it," he spat. "Just forget it. It has nothing to do with you."  
  
He was halfway out the door when a hand clamped down on his arm.  
  
The damned gangster-wannabe was _grinning_ at him.  
  
"So, Kyon-Kyon," she said, "which way do _you_ 'swing'?"  
  
Kyou found himself blushing beet-red to the roots of his hair, trying to shake this. . .this _girl_. . .off of him, and spluttering unintelligibly all at the same time. After a few moments, he managed to pull himself together enough to yell "don't call me that!" and a few choice expletives.  
  
Uotani, still grinning, seemed singularly unimpressed.  
  
It was scary.  
  
Kyou would never be able to figure out what Tohru saw in "Uo-chan," he decided. At least that _other_ one wasn't here, he thought, repressing a shudder. Come to think of it. . . .  
  
"So, why isn't the Psychic Girl with you today?" he asked, still nervous but putting on a show of being casual.  
  
"Hana-chan's sick today. Don't change the subject, you. So the great Sohma Kyou, that standard-bearer of masculine volatility, is playing for both teams, eh?"  
  
"_Shut up!_" he yelled, stopping himself just before he slapped her across the room. The sheer force of his anger took him by surprise. He didn't hit girls! When had he _ever_ hit a girl?! He couldn't even hit Kagura back properly without feeling guilty! Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach.  
  
Uotani just looked at him, with something that seemed almost like sympathy. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Granted, he's your cousin, but he's certainly good-looking, and--"  
  
She was talking like she understood. Her hand was on his shoulder.  
  
He was angry.  
  
He was going to throw up.  
  
"_What the hell do you know?!_" Kyou threw her off of him and scrambled backwards until his back hit the classroom wall. He stopped at its corner, letting the two intersecting walls support him has he clutched his heaving stomach and gasped for air. He felt ragged.  
  
The Yankee approached him as if he were a wild animal, coming close but not too close. Her voice was low, gentle. "Ok, my bad. You're right. I don't know. You wanna tell me?"  
  
"No," Kyou rasped, still panting. And he didn't.  
  
But he discovered his mouth moving anyway. "It's just him," it was saying, without permission. "I'm not like that. It's just. . .just him. Just him. I hate him." For some reason, his voice was whispering. _Not soft enough. . .I can still hear it. . .I can still hear it. . . ._ Kyou gagged, but managed to keep everything down.  
  
"It's all right," she said. "It'll be all right."  
  
There was a longing in him that was never going to go anywhere.  
  
"'Cause you're strong," said Uotani.  
  
Kyou managed the incredible effort it took to lift his head and glare at her.  
  
"You are," said Uotani, sounding reflective. "Whether you like it or not, it's true. I've been watching you. You're strong. Stronger than you were. No matter what they do, you're going to be able to keep on going."  
  
". . .always. . .the third. . .aren't I. . .?" he whispered.  
  
Uotani looked at him, expectantly.  
  
". . . . . . . . .they kissed," he said, finally. "I saw it." Saying it made it harder to ignore. His insides twisted again.  
  
She accepted this almost serenely. _So that's it? She saw it coming, eh? She's stronger than me too, then._  
  
"Have _you_ ever been kissed, Carrots?"  
  
_--what?!_  
  
"The fuck?!" he spluttered, flustered. Here she seemed one second like she was gonna be sympathetic, and then she started saying weird stuff he didn't understand as if she was _trying_ to piss him off!  
  
Uotani had a new mission, however. Kyou barely had time to blink before she was standing right in front of him, a hand reaching out to touch his face. In a panic, he shot out a hand to push her away. It landed on her shoulder, stopping her before she got close enough to transform him, but seeming to have no effect on the basic problem of her _staring_ at him like that, and Tohru was the only girl he ever let get close to him, dammit, and this was _really_ starting to freak him out--  
  
She kissed him.  
  
It was. . .weird.  
  
Kyou had basically no experience with which to interpret this (Kagura's various attempts didn't count, and he'd always thrown her off before they really got off the ground anyway). It felt. . .soft. Softer than he'd expected. He wasn't used to soft stuff, and suspected that he wasn't going to be very good at the whole thing. It was confusing. Why couldn't she have just thrown a punch at him? Painful things, those he could do. Those made sense. He was annoyed with her for doing this to him. They stood there in frozen tableau; he leaning away into the wall, she leaning forward into his hand.  
  
And then suddenly there was something wet on his lips, and he blinked out of his shock, opening his mouth to yell and push her off. And _then_. . .oh. There was something wet. . .well, _everything_ was wet. And very warm. Oh. And very. . .Kyou didn't know what to do.  
  
He felt his knees sag a little bit, and decided the best plan for now was just to let Uotani do whatever she wanted. His stomach calmed down. His eyes closed in surrender, and he stopped fighting it.  
  
A very pleasant interval passed.  
  
But eventually, the lips against his tried to pull away. Kyou, whose every thought had been obliterated from his mind the second he'd first felt that tongue on his, knew only that the second she pulled away, it was over. He would start remembering.  
  
Kyou was reluctant to let that happen, now that he'd discovered this new. . ._something_. He wanted the something a little longer--maybe even wanted Uotani Arisa a little longer, he realized with something like shock. She might be annoying, and she might always beat him at cards (_luck_, he told himself, _just luck_), but she was a strong fighter. She stuck up for people. She was pretty, and she smelled nice. And she had the best figure in school. He wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't so oblivious that he hadn't noticed _that_.  
  
_Ok, then_. Kyou surged forward, following those retreating lips and grabbing tight hold of Uotani's shoulders so that she wouldn't wreck everything by calling out the cat. He felt his strength flowing back to him, and he put it into controlling the kiss. It was a different kind of thing than those first ones had been--it wasn't soft anymore. More like demanding, and heated, and wanting. Kyou found himself wanting to fight her on these terms--make her shut up, stop teasing and confusing him and just be _his_ for awhile.  
  
_His._  
  
"Well, what do you know?" Uotani breathed when they finally broke apart for air. "So you _can_ react like a healthy teenage male to some things." She looked a little shaken, but that infuriating grin was back, and she was already teasing, just like she always did. She stepped away from Kyou, hands in the pockets of her skirt.  
  
She pulled away.  
  
He remembered that he was disgusting.  
  
"Go away," he whispered. "Go away." He would not fall apart while she was in the room, dammit. He would _not_.  
  
Uotani ignored this. She seemed to be considering something. For awhile the room was silent except for his harsh breathing.  
  
"You won't be theirs," she finally said, breaking the stillness. "Would you be mine for awhile?"  
  
"Wha--what are you talking about?"  
  
"You and me. Wanna give it a shot?" She was _smiling_ at him.  
  
Kyou went completely still.  
  
"Why me?! Why should I?!"  
  
"Because you interest me, Kyon-Kyon. You're tough. You're honest. I think you and I would make for a lively relationship, wouldn't you? Plus, you're not a bad kisser." The smile was almost tender. It was almost like Tohru, almost like his mother.  
  
Silence. He couldn't trust this. He would not trust this.  
  
Her voice became cajoling. "Oh, come on, you never know--we might be good for each other."  
  
Kyou felt the beginnings of a very definite panic. "Weren't you a lez?"  
  
Uotani shrugged. "I swing both ways, Kyon-Kyon. Can't say I ever really thought I'd swing in _your_ direction, though." She seemed amused at herself. He put his hands over his ears to block it out. ". . .so, what about it?"  
  
Sick. He felt sick. He was disgusting.  
  
"I'm telling you, _stop it_! It won't _work_, ok?" he shouted.  
  
"Why not?" she asked, reasonably.  
  
"Uh. . ." Kyou suddenly realized he couldn't think of a good reason that wasn't one of the family secrets. _I love Tohru_ was still true, but seemed somehow distant in comparison with the immediacy, the _now_-ness, of this. And it wouldn't fly with this girl, because she felt the same way, and for some incomprehensible reason she'd decided to take a shot on him anyway. "We'd just fight all the time," he muttered finally, lamely.  
  
"Yeah, but that would be fun, too."  
  
His heart was pounding in panic. He couldn't stay here. He made a break for the door, only to be caught again by the same hand, on the same arm. Kyou lost it. "_Just let me go!_" he screeched.  
  
Her eyes widened, startled, and for a moment she almost did let him go. But then:  
  
"Just tell me the truth, Kyou," she replied, gently.  
  
The truth. "I. . .you would never be able to hold me, you know." That had to be enough, didn't it?  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"_You just can't, ok?!_"  
  
The Yankee seemed to ponder this for a minute. "Well, all you're basically saying is that I can't get carried away and hug you, right? So if you tie me up, then there's no problem, is there?"  
  
Kyou was momentarily speechless.  
  
"How. . .can you be so confident?"  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know. It just feels like an auspicious day."  
  
"There's a me that I don't want you to know," Kyou blurted suddenly, before he could stop himself.  
  
"There's a me before I brush my hair in the morning. Everyone has something they're embarrassed of."  
  
Kyou found himself shaking. "You don't understand. I _can't_ let you know. I _won't_ let you know."  
  
Uotani's smile was wide and frank.  
  
"You. . .you really don't care, do you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Wide and frank and beautiful.  
  
He couldn't for the life of him think of another excuse.  
  
In the end it took a long, long time, but that was how it all started. 


End file.
